I'm Still Here
by Daisuke Kazamatsuri
Summary: Alfred and Matt reflect on their respective histories, remembering what others thought of them as they revealed themselves to each other.  AmericaxCanada


**Daisuke: Yeah, I know I've been a bit of a ghost for a while. Yes, I know I owe a few chapters to 'In Another Life', and that there are a few of my reviews that need responses, but I've been kept busy lately. Between keeping up some kind of a social life (HA!) and my parents believing that being out of school means either having a job (all taken) or doing various chores and errands around the house, plus getting my driver's license, I've been barely catching sleep, let alone able to write. Not to mention starting an RP account with a friend for Russia (on facebook, email: vodkainmypipe hotmail . com) and America (my friend, ImmortalFallenAngel, also on fb and whose email for the account you would have to get from her), and trying to keep it up. Anyway, I got a bit of inspiration and this was the result. Enjoy! And don't forget to review!**

_I am a question to the world  
>Not an answer to be heard<br>Or a moment that's held in your arms_

And what do you think you'd ever say  
>I won't listen anyway<br>You don't know me  
>And I'll never be what you want<br>Me to be

Alfred sighed as he stared out of his window into the dismal rain of the spring afternoon. It had been pouring since partway through the day before, and the sky was showing no signs of opening up any time soon. He always hated these days. They forced him to stay inside, unable to see that beautiful clear sky that had inspired so much of his culture, even before the settlement. He missed those days, free to roam the open fields and play amongst his wildlife, spend weeks with the wolves and run miles with the horses, to ride the backs of bison and be carried away with the eagles. Now, after all of the technological advancements and after the land had been settled to the point that most of his animals were livestock and zoo-kept, America was forced to put on his smile and deceive the other nations, just as they did to him, just to help the people he had today.

He'd fought hard for his freedom, standing on the front lines with his soldiers since he was a colony against his caretaker. Hell, he was the one who finally faced down old Iggy himself. Since then, he'd fought with tooth and nail for recognition in the world, ignorant to his self-destruction as his people spread westward, ignoring his pleas to leave his other citizens alone. Ignorant of the things his own people were doing to each other and his wildlife as he turned toward the East, slowly earning his place among the giants and the ancient countries that would eventually be his comrades and enemies. When he finally realized what had happened, a single memory had surfaced in his mind, one of his bald eagles in the west picking him up as a small child and lifting him to heights he hadn't seen since, showing him the beautiful land he was a part of from their eyes.

Since that moment, he'd had his eyes on getting that feeling back, on taking to the skies no matter that he was human. The European countries had been naysayers, telling him it was impossible, that he would just be a repeat of Icarus, and he would just fall back to the Earth after getting too close to the Sun. Then he'd been approached by Russia, who gave him a long look, studying him, and then a smile. _"You'll do it. I know you vill. If you need any assistance in the future, do not be afraid to ask,"_ he'd said. Then he'd walked away with a brighter look on his face than any of the countries had seen in a long, long time. Then with his brother at his back, Alfred had gone in search of a way to fly.

_And what  
>Do you think you'd understand<br>I'm boy, no, I'm a man  
>You can't take me<br>And throw me away_

And how  
>Can you learn what's never shown<br>Yeah, you stand here on your own  
>They don't know me<br>'Cause I'm not here

Matt strolled hesitantly out of the airport, eyes on the floor in front of him but mind a million miles away. He was sick of it, as he almost always was, after being bombarded with it. He'd been mistaken for his brother more than a few times, of course, and he was almost completely used to being missed entirely, but that didn't mean he wasn't fed up with it. How dumb could they be? He was so obviously not the hyperactive America, the only thing they even had in common was a face, everything else was different, down to their mannerisms even. The last time anyone had paid any real attention to Canada had been when they were invading, and he was in severe pain at the time.

After he had been sent to live with Francis, the man had gone gallivanting after his female citizens, leaving Matt all alone in a big empty house, too young and too weak to take care of anything else. When the house wasn't empty, Francis either ignored him or dismissed him if he had company, leaving Canada, barely old enough to walk, with no human contact and no real rules besides staying in the country. So, Matt simply began walking around Paris, taking in the sights and learning some of the language, while learning every step of the way that calling attention to himself would do him no good. Eventually, he stopped returning to France's home, and instead stowed away on a ship to return to his own land, where he observed his new settlers and his brother's, learned English and began speaking with the other children.

Eventually, they all grew older and left him behind, and Matt never let anyone in again.

_And I want a moment to be real  
>Want to touch things I don't feel<br>Wanna hold on and feel I belong_

And how can the world want me to change  
>They're the ones that stay the same<br>They don't know me  
>'Cause I'm not here<p>

America didn't look up when his door opened. Only two people had the key to his house here, deep in his northern New Hampshire woods, and one was currently too attached to the television in their New York apartment to bother coming down for anything short of an emergency, which he would have called for first anyway. The other would have come in after a few unanswered, hesitant knocks that Alfred knew for a fact he wouldn't have heard, and would then move to his spot by the window. When he felt the presence behind him, forcing down his usual 'it's-a-ghost-freeze-up-then-run' reflex, the country of freedom spoke, his voice slightly gravelly from a mix of recent yelling and a few days of disuse to follow. "Welcome back, Mattie."

Canada's face was visible in the window, a sad look on his features as Alfred continued to stare into the rain. He didn't speak, simply stared at the more outgoing twin's reflection. Alfred stretched out his hand, touching the reflections of Canada's cheek gently with his fingers. He'd never admit it, but after Canada's independence, he'd felt most comfortable in his brother's presence, even more so than a brother should. The twins knew without words what the other was thinking, knew that what they felt was against their own morals, but they were changing. Their countries were changing so much more quickly than they should be able to, so much more quickly than the rest of the world. With every change, every little shift in the thought pattern of their people, Alfred and Matt changed too.

They never showed it, though, Alfred still bouncing from topic to topic and giving ridiculous ideas for solutions while Matt faded into the background, taking care of his own economy and government and letting everyone else do what they wanted. But it was times like this, when they stared in each other's eyes, that they could let it all go. Matt could voice his opinion and be heard, and Alfred could stop pretending to have to speak to fill the silence. This was where they both existed as they are, and not as they once were.

_And you see the things they never see  
>All you wanted - I could be<br>Now you know me  
>And I'm not afraid<em>

And I want to tell you who I am  
>Can you help me be a man<br>They can't break me  
>As long as I know who I am<p>

Matt gazed into the window's reflection, and despite the fact that it had been happening for some twenty or thirty years now, felt elated that his brother was looking him right in the eye, recognition and happiness in his eyes. He'd known, always, that Alfred had needed a calming presence in his life, one that could help point out the logic he was missing so much of the time. He'd known that he was supposed to be that presence, but in being one of England's remaining colonies, he wasn't much of a presence at all. Now, he was independent, was his own person, was able to express opinion to whomever he wished and not feel guilty about it. Now, his brother knew him, and all of that fear, all of that apprehension that he'd lived with for so long, had simply evaporated under the other man's gaze.

When it had first happened, Canada had wanted to blurt everything out to his southern brother, had wanted to simply tell the blue-eyed nation all about him, but before he'd gotten started, Alfred had covered his mouth with a finger. _"I want to find out myself. Let me learn about you the way everyone else has to."_ Then he'd smiled, brushed the tear from Matt's sparkling violet eye, brushed a hand over Kumajirou's head, and started chatting with the northern brother over lunch. They spent at least two days a week having lunch together after that. Four or five years later, Alfred had taken him to this cabin, explaining how it was his escape from the world, the one place where he could completely be himself, then handed Matt the spare key.

Matt had been touched at that, and the thought filled him with something: he felt he could take on the world, stand up to the ones who had once ignored him, and keep a firm ground. He would not be controlled or walked on again.

_And I want a moment to be real  
>Want to touch things I don't feel<br>Wanna hold on and feel I belong_

And how can the world want me to change  
>They're the ones that stay the same<br>They can't see me  
>But I'm still here<p>

Alfred turned away from the window for the first time in several hours, taking Matt into his arms as he stood, and simply held his brother close. It was odd, he'd noticed it before, but it had never been more apparent before. When he'd hugged any of the other countries - in jest or in enthusiasm - there was an odd sort of displacement, like they were repelling each other in places. But with Matt, he fit just right. Maybe it was just some nifty little thing about their geography, or maybe it was just Alfred's imagination, but he felt right in Matt's arms more than anywhere else. He belonged there, he knew, because when all the other countries had seen America - had seen the great superpower - Matt had always seen Alfred.

Even Ivan, when they were dating, had drastically changed his views with his own country on the night of his Revolution, leaving the Tsarist government behind and turning to Communism, and instead of ignoring their countries' differences and continuing to love Alfred for himself, as he had always done, he'd done the unthinkable. That night, Alfred had been slapped, beaten, and raped before being tossed out into the snow. In a matter of a few short hours, Alfred had gone from happy and in love to broken and in the freezing cold. Matt was the one who had come and picked up the pieces. The worst of it was that when the former lovers saw each other next, Russia was merely smiling pleasantly. So America had put on a bright smile and a brave face, and only Canada ever knew he was any different.

The other countries had given him exasperated looks and ignored his rambling, leaving a broken Alfred nearly alone to deal with the worst. It took Matt nearly one hundred years to mend the cracks.

_They can't tell me who to be  
>'Cause I'm not what they see<br>Yeah, the world is still sleepin' while I keep on dreaming for me  
>And their words are just whispers and lies that I'll never believe<em>

And I want a moment to be real  
>Want to touch things I don't feel<br>Wanna hold on and feel I belong

Matt held his brother tightly, allowing the southern country to let out his frustration in his tears, feeling the trembling of the superpower's body. He was so fed up with it. With the world and what it did to him and his brother, to what labels they pushed onto their own citizens despite the hypocrisy of it all, he was finished with their opinions being forced onto others. A thought drifted into his head, and he nearly shook it away. Matt had been hoping and dreaming for a moment like that all his life, but he'd never made it happen. Had only waited for his brother to initiate it. The voices of the other countries floated through around him, plaguing his mind with doubts and lies, and he made a decision.

The northern brother pulled back slightly, making sure that Alfred's tear-stained face was looking at him, and that his shining blue eyes saw the determination in his violet orbs, before leaning forward and placing his lips on the other man's. Matt's eyes slipped closed as he waited for Alfred's response, arms slackening slightly and beginning to pull away when the latter didn't respond. He was pulled back a moment later, however, when Alfred tightened his own hold and pressed back into the kiss. They spent a few minutes like that, happy to belong somewhere, and to someone of their own free will for the first time in a long time.

Behind them, the rain lessened and the clouds began to break, a single ray of sunlight peeping through the trees and the sky, landing right on the recently vacated chair. The moment would be forever burned into their minds, their own private memory that would get them through the day. Even when they stepped back into the real world, smiles on their faces and words in their mouths, putting on a grand show for the rest of the world, this moment would be theirs. This moment would be forever theirs.

_And how can you say I'll never change  
>They're the ones that stay the same<br>I'm the one now  
>'Cause I'm still here<em>

I'm the one  
>'Cause I'm still here<br>I'm still here  
>I'm still here<br>I'm still here


End file.
